


In which Tony needs glasses

by CapnShellhead



Series: Sam/Tony: Domestic Avengers [7]
Category: Marvel 616
Genre: Arguing, Established Relationship, Insecurity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-12 06:03:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12952917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapnShellhead/pseuds/CapnShellhead
Summary: Sam comes home from Bucky’s bachelor party.





	In which Tony needs glasses

**Author's Note:**

> Forewarning you guys, this argument has nothing to do with sexuality. I realized after finishing that someone might get that idea but I promise you, it’s not. 
> 
> That being said, sexuality is a very complex thing and it’s different for everyone. Even knowing and understanding how it works for yourself doesn’t mean you understand how it works for someone else. 
> 
> Leave me a note, let me know what you think! 
> 
> Best,  
> IIW

It’s late and Tony’s working on a prototype for Lunella’s boots. His eyes are straining a bit, the numbers blurring on the screen. He wipes his tablet a few times before he realizes his eyes are the problem. He might actually need glasses, god help him. He’d thought his life was over last week when Riri spotted a few grey hairs and now he was losing his eyesight? Christ, he’d gotten old. 

He’s grumbling to himself on the couch in their bedroom when Sam comes home. He’s a little wobbly, a red feather boa around his neck and glitter all over his face. He spots Tony and beams, genuinely excited to see his husband. Tony smiles; he doesn’t drink and Sam didn’t either; out of respect or a personal preference, Tony was never sure. At first glance, Tony thinks the giddiness is due to him being tipsy but with a closer look, Tony can see Sam’s just happy. He’s even giggling!

Sam closes the door behind him and shuffles closer. He doesn’t ask before draping himself across Tony’s lap, knocking the breath out of him. Tony huffs out a laugh, embracing the heavy, warm weight of Sam turning over to get comfortable. He rarely acted like this; usually the one to get laid on. Tony can count the number of times Sam laid on him on one hand. It was nice, his weight comforting and he was so warm and smiley. Tony pets his stomach and laughs when Sam stretches out like a puppy. 

His eyes close softly as he groans and relaxes. “What’d you do?” Tony asks. 

Sam freezes for a moment and then answers, “We went out.” He buries his face in Tony’s stomach.

“Out where?” Tony asks. He wasn’t the jealous type and it wasn’t like he resented that Bucky hadn’t invited him to his bachelor party. Nat invited him to her bachelorette party so it wasn’t like he felt truly excluded. Sure, he and Bucky weren’t on the best of terms but it wasn’t like Tony had ever had a problem with Sam continuing to see him. He’s not sure why Sam was being coy right now. “Sam?”

He mumbles something but Tony can’t understand it. “A little louder?” he asks and pulls Sam’s head away form his stomach.

Sam blinks up at him sheepishly through the mess of glitter all over his face. “Strip club.”

Oh.

“That… sounds like fun,” Tony says slowly, fighting down the embarrassing flush. It wasn’t easy talking about this part of Sam’s life. Tony had dated anyone and everyone before they got together. His last partner before Sam had been Amara so it wasn’t like he’d forgotten what it was like to be with a woman. Based on what Sam had told Tony, he had only dated women before they got together. It was that inexperience that made it difficult for Tony to believe their dates were actually dates and not just friendly dinners.

“Tony,” Sam began even as Tony waved him off. He trailed his thumb over Sam’s face gently, his head still cradled in Tony’s lap. He was so warm and _real_ in Tony’s arms and that made this harder to deal with.

“I’m okay. Honest,” he says and forces a smile on his face. “I’ve dated more people than you can count. I’m not jealous or whatever you’re thinking in that head of yours.”

Sam takes Tony’s hand off his face and holds it. “It doesn’t mean anything.” When Tony takes his hand back, Sam starts to sit up and Tony sighs internally. Sam holds his gaze steadily and reiterates, “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Sam, quit it,” Tony warns.

“Nothing happened,” he says firmly and Tony starts to sweat.

“It’s not like Bucky took you to a brothel,” he jokes but Sam just stares at him. “He didn’t, did he?”

Sam rolls his eyes, “I’m being serious right now.”

“I know. Hence me trying to distract you. I don’t have a freak out every time you look at a woman, _sweetheart_ ,” he spat and it takes Sam’s eyes widening for Tony to realize his tone is biting. 

Tony was pissed. Why was he so angry? He takes a deep breath and leans back against the back of the couch, arms crossed tight over his chest. Sam lowers his eyes, his lip sucked between his teeth and great, now Sam felt bad. Tony hated it when he made Sam feel bad. This was his deal and Sam had come home so cheerful and relaxed and any other night, Tony would’ve taken advantage of that. He would have tried to swallow some of that giddiness for himself and ride Sam until they both went to sleep happy and sticky. Why was tonight different?

“You want me to go?” Sam asks and Tony’s chest clenched.

“No!” he shouts but Sam wasn’t resigned or dejected. He appeared to just be asking, no hard feelings. This close, Tony can see the glitter trail from Sam’s chin down into the collar of his shirt. There are red smudges on his cheeks and left temple. His wedding ring is still in plain view and Tony hates the part of him that wants to make sure the tan line was still there. He can just picture some large breasted woman smothering Sam with kisses and letting him bury his face in her chest. He can picture Sam giggly and flattered, his large hands sliding over her body and it makes Tony’s stomach churn. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t even know why it’s driving me crazy,” he admits. Sam’s wrist comes down to rest against the arm and box Tony in. His fingers are trailing overt he exposed skin of Tony’s side. His eyes are open and honest, no judgment there and it makes Tony feel worse. “I know it doesn’t mean anything I just… I don’t know.”

“Would it make a difference if we’d gone to a ladies’ club?” he asks quietly and Tony thinks about it for a moment. He tries to picture Bucky getting lap dances from muscular men and it makes him laugh. Then he tries to picture some big, blond beefcake straddling his husband’s lap while Sam slid bills into his g-string. It’s so ridiculous and unlikely that it makes him laugh. He can’t even see Sam walking into a place like that. He shakes his head with a helpless shrug and Sam sighs heavily.

“Thought so,” he murmurs and Tony feels like he has to defend himself.

“I can’t even imagine you going there and even if you did, it doesn’t make me angry. But when I think about those women all over you, I just,” he cuts himself off and when he finishes, his words are clipped. ” _Hate it_ ” he grits out.

Sam’s taken aback, his hand ceasing petting Tony’s side as he stiffens. “You hate it?”

Tony wants to leave; he hates being the one with the problem. Wasn’t that always the way things were between them? He turns it back on Sam, “Well, how would you feel if I came home with glitter all over my face?”

Sam shrugs, “I don’t love it but I don’t _hate it_.”

“Would it make a difference if it was Natasha’s bachelorette party?” he asks and Sam’s eyes narrow.

“I like it less but… it’s just different, baby. You had a different life before you met me and if you’d kept flirting with everything that moved, I wouldn’t love it but I’d know you didn’t mean anything by it. I’d – I’d never have to worry.” His head cocks to the side and Tony braces himself. “You think I’d cheat on you.”

“Of course I don’t,” Tony says but Sam’s studying him closely now, his face hard.

“You worry that I’ll wake up one day and not want this anymore,” he discerns. The giggles and cheerful mood from before were definitely gone and Tony doesn’t know how they got here. Sam’s pulling away to stand, his mouth a grim line in the center of his face. Tony’s thankful the kids weren’t here because he knows this is about to turn into a fight.

“Sam,” he tries but Sam’s starting in.

“You told me it didn’t matter that you were my first. I asked you, you know I did. I told you I had never been with a man before and you said you were okay with that!”

“I was! I – I am! This has nothing to do with that!”

“Then why are you acting like this?”

“Because you can’t just turn it off, Sam! You don’t just – just wake up one day and find yourself attracted to men. You don’t just wake up one day and find yourself no longer attracted to women!”

“And you’re the arbiter of sexuality now? You decide what can and can’t happen based on your own insecure bullshit notions?” he spat and Tony’s mouth falls open. It wasn’t often they yelled at each other and even rarer for Sam to yell back. “No, I didn’t just wake up one day and think about sucking your cock! It’s not that simple!”

“That’s what I’m trying to say!”

“No – it isn’t! You’re trying to tell me how my own damn attraction works and that’s bullshit!”

“Stop putting words in my mouth!” he demands and Sam’s face grows even stormier.

“I know how I feel, Tony!”

“Then explain it to me!” 

“I can’t!” Sam shouts and Tony can hear their heavy breathing in the silence that follows. Sam paces a little, his hand on his hip. “One -one day I’m looking at you like a teammate and the next you were all I could think about. I thought we were just becoming friends; partners like Steve and I or Bucky but then you’re sitting across from me and Kamala’s talking about family and I just wanted to hold your hand. Then I wanted to kiss you and then I wanted to touch you. I tried to ignore it but it just _was_. It wasn’t all of the sudden, I didn’t just wake up one day. It was gradual.”

Any other context and Sam’s words would’ve made him feel fuzzy and warm but tonight, it makes Tony lower his eyes. His voice is brittle as he asks, “And you don’t think about them anymore?”

“What?”

“Women. You don’t jerk off and imagine having sex with a woman again? You don’t think about tits or – or pussy or any of your old girlfriends?” he asks, his eyes drifting up to meet Sam’s. His face feels drawn, eyes weary as he watches Sam’s mouth twist.

“Do you?” he asks in return. “You dated women, too. You gonna tell me every single time you jerk off, you think about me?”

“Yeah, I do,” Tony says plainly. He spreads his arms out helpless, his throat raw as he says, “This is it for me, Sam. You’re it! You’re the only person I want to be with and the only person I want to touch. This is – this is the end all, be all for me. You’re it.”

Sam’s eyes are wide and disbelieving, his hand clenched tight in the fabric bunched over his stomach. He’s frozen as Tony stares up at him demandingly. “Maybe… maybe – maybe that’s not the way it’s supposed to work. Maybe – maybe I watched too many movies as a kid or I’m just wired wrong but I – this is just how I feel. I think about you with them and I know it’s nothing – I know it’s just fun for them and – and for you but I just… I hate it, Sam. It’s selfish and it makes me feel like a crazy, possessive monster and I don’t like feeling this way.”

Sam’s mouth falls open. “So… so you’re saying your shit is my shit now?” Sam wants to stop. He wants to slow down or rewind and make it so this conversation doesn’t happen. Wants to go back and maybe skip coming home altogether. “Because I’m – what? Still attracted to women, I’m responsible for making you feel like shit?”

“That’s not what I said!”

“You just said you hate thinking about me looking at other women!”

“Oh, so you just looked? You got covered in glitter just looking at them, Sam?”

Sam covers his eyes and groans, “You’re not listening to me-“

“I am! I’m listening to you try to turn this back on me! I’m not blaming you for being attracted to them!”

“You just hate that I am-“

“Yes!” The room goes quiet save for the air conditioning clicking on. Tony has moved to the edge of the couch and Sam’s standing before him. Tony covers his face and grumbles, “Goddamn it. Goddamn it, Sam.”

There’s a knock on the door and they both freeze, eyes wide as they stare at each other. “Who’s here?” Sam asks and Tony shakes his head.

Sam straightens his clothes and moves to the door. Riri’s standing on the other end looking like she was hoping the ground would swallow her whole. “Hi, uh, we didn’t realize anyone else was here.”

“Yeah, I figured,” she says and peers around the door to see Tony waving awkwardly at her. She waves back and says, “I just came back to return to sample RT generator you let me borrow. I realize I could have called first but I was in the neighborhood and the door was open.”

Shit.

“Yeah, thanks,” Tony calls out and runs a tired hand over his hair. Riri waves farewell and Sam walks her out, locking the door behind her. He waits in the foyer and just breathes. He can’t go upstairs like this. He was already on edge and worn out and he hated fighting with Tony. This was an old issue disguised as a new fight and Sam didn’t even understand it. Tony wasn’t gay; based on everything he’d told Sam, he was pansexual. He was just… not sexually attracted to anyone who wasn’t Sam at the moment. How did that work?

When Sam returns, Tony is sitting in bed, his arms wrapped tight around his knees. He’s not sure what it is exactly: Tony wiping tiredly at his face, his position, the jarring shift from being so happy and relaxed to angry and defensive; Sam’s not sure what exactly brings a knot to his throat. He closes the door and pulls his shirt over his head. Tony watches him, his eyes trailing over Sam’s body appreciatively before his eyes snap forward like he was scolding himself.

Sam doesn’t know how to feel about Tony’s confession. What was it like to put all that focus, all that attention on one person? So much so that masturbating would only lead to thoughts of them. He thought about Tony more often than anyone else; how it felt to touch him, to be touched by him. It was more intense than any made up fantasy about some mystery woman. It made him feel good to know that Tony thought about him when he touched himself but it made him feel unworthy at the same time. 

Sam sits on the edge of the bed and he has to try a few times to get the words out. “It’s just… you were my first.” Tony doesn’t acknowledge him, his hands white where they held his knees close to his chest. “Before you, I considered myself straight. I’d only been with women and that’s all I thought about.”

Tony wiped at his eyes, “Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

“Let me finish.” Tony doesn’t answer and Sam sighs heavily. “I still remember what it felt like to sleep with women and they’re good memories. I’m not going to lie to you. But they’re just memories. Sometimes when I’m jerking off, I think about them. It’s just the way my brain works. That doesn’t make what we have any less important. Hey, look at me.” When Tony won’t Sam asks a little softer, “Tony, look at me.”

He does and Sam almost wishes he hadn’t asked. His eyes are red, his face defiant even as his lip starts to quiver. Sam has to push down the part of him that feels like this was his fault. Tony was right; it wasn’t fair to make Sam feel bad about this but that didn’t mean it hurt any less. For either of them. “I don’t know how to explain it but it’s just attraction and it’s just physical. You have my heart. You’re the most important person in my life. No one else makes me feel the way you do. Anything I think about those women is nothing compared to what it’s like having everything, all the important shit with one person. You’re it for me, too. You were my first and you’ll be my last.”

“You don’t know that,” Tony says stuffily and Sam loves him, clearly, because there’s nothing attractive about the snot coming out of his nose right now. “I just worry that, you’ll regret this someday. You’ll - you’ll-“ he cuts himself off. “I guess I just worry that I’m a fluke.”

It’s like sliding ice water into Sam’s veins. “What?” Tony starts to take it back but it’s too late, Sam already heard it.

“I think maybe you haven’t considered all the possibilities. Maybe you just wanted to experiment with me and thought you had to marry me to justify it. Maybe you only liked me as a friend and I pushed it. Maybe - I don’t know.”

Sam stared at him for a moment and then mutters, “This has nothing to do with me being bisexual.”

“No, of course not. I - is that what you are?” he asked and Sam sighs. “Babe?”

Sam’s eyes widen, “There, that right there. You never used to call me ‘babe’.”

“You want me to stop?” Tony asked confusedly. 

“You used to call me Sam and then, over time, you didn’t. It was gradual,” he explains. “You didn’t wake up one day and think ‘Sam’s pretty cute’.”

“Not quite,” Tony responds. “I always found you attractive and then you started looking at me like you were interested.”

“What’s really bothering you? It can’t be that I don’t have some stupid label for it the way you do? I wouldn’t marry you if I wasn’t attracted to you.”

“You would if you had some bullshit idea that marriage comes before sex or whatever. You can fuck me without marrying me.”

“I know that and I did,” Sam said bitingly. Tony reared back, frowning at him. “No, this is about tonight. I know I must’ve looked at women since we’ve been married but it wasn’t until tonight that it bothered you.”

Tony covers his face, above and beyond tired of this conversation. “Tony, what’s going on?”

“If you walked out that door tomorrow, there would be hundreds, no thousands of women lined up waiting for you. And probably some men if you were into that. If you finally  
wizened up to how much better you could do than me, it wouldn’t take long for you to find someone else.”

“And you think I’d give all of this up, my marriage, this house, our kids, our team, all of that because I met the world’s most amazing stripper?”

“It’s not about the stripper!

“Then why tonight?” he asks and Tony can’t answer. “Something happened today and suddenly - suddenly you think you’re not enough for me and good old reliable Sam is a snake that would drop you at the nearest pair of nice tits.”

“I’m... dying?” Tony tries and Sam looks about ready to throttle him.

“Given your track record, you know damn well that’s not funny.”

Tony sighs heavily and rubs at his eyes. “I need glasses.”

“Just swinging wildly on the spectrum of crazy tonight.”

“I need glasses because I’m getting old and my hair is turning grey. And pretty soon I’m not going to be sexy and hot and fit. I’m not going to be whatever it was that attracted you to me despite the fact that I have a penis and you’ve never been into that before me.”

Silence as Sam stares at Tony for a long while and then he’s sighing heavily. “You’re a mess,” Sam murmurs and Tony almost thinks it sounds fond. 

“I have sore knees and my bones crack when I get up. Lunella bested me at chess and Riri calls my records ‘Old white guy music’. I’m old and-“

“White and a guy. Yeah, I kinda knew that when I married you.” Sam pulls him closer, even as angry as he was underneath it all, it felt good to hold Tony close and slide a hand down his back. Yeah, maybe he’d only had experience holding women close and feeling their breasts press against his chest. Rolling over at night and feeling soft skin against his instead of hairy, muscular legs and a bulge pressed against his ass. It wasn’t bad, just different. He was new to all of it and the fact that it was Tony made it wonderful. 

“It was a fluke, Sam. Some random error in your code that made you look at me and see something you wanted. Can you honestly say you’ll still feel that way when all my hair falls out and this ass does quit?”

Sam bites down a laugh as he asks, “Is there a timeframe? I gotta know if I need to prepare myself for a rough morning tomorrow.” Tony swats him and he answers honestly, “I know because even if you woke up looking more like the old guy from Up and less like you, you’d still be everything I married you for. Yeah, the ass helps and I love touching you but none of that makes you the guy that adopts five hundred kids and gives away all our food. None of that has anything to do with you making me feel like I can do this job when I want to quit and whine and crawl into bed and stay here. You are everything I wrote about in my vows and I will love you in sickness and in health. When you’re old and grey and you need help getting down the stairs. When all the kids stop pretending to lose to you in chess, I am still going to be here.”

He pulls back only to be yanked in close by a hand on the back of his neck. His question is lost in Tony’s mouth as he kisses him, the taste of salt bursting on his tongue. He closes his eyes, let’s Tony take control and concentrates on keeping their balance. He ends up on his back in this ridiculously large bed as Tony climbs over him. 

When he pulls up for air, Tony staring at him. “Well, when you put it like that,” he says by way of explanation. 

“You mean exactly the way I put it in my vows?” 

“I wasn’t listening,” Tony replies and Sam lets him have the lie for now. “You were wearing the nicest bespoke suit and I was horny and imagining it on our floor.”

“How many important things have you missed because you were thinking about me naked?”

“Depends, how many important things have you said to me?” Sam pulls him down to kiss, and subsequently bite, his bottom lip. Tony’s eyes are soft with apologies when they meet Sam’s. 

“You know I-“

“I know. Me too,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry, babe. You’re right, you know? It’s my shit.”

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Sam began but Tony kisses him again. 

“You were pissed off and I was being a dick. I’ll work on it. These are all my... fucked up insecurities. Not your problem; it’s mine.”

“I married you. Your shit is my shit, now.” 

Tony presses his face against Sam’s chest and says, “I’m so happy you didn’t put that in your vows.”

“Thought you weren’t listening?”

**Author's Note:**

> There was version of this that ended in porn, by the way


End file.
